


And Their Name Was Treason

by CherryMountain



Series: New Beginnings [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Arm Wrestling, Bar, Bar fights, Brony but only if you squint, Cap and his shield, Evil Tony, Half-Elf, Hunters, M/M, Pool Table, Science Bros, Shifter, Snarky Tony, Sorcerer, Tony's 3rd person POV, Werewolf, awesome jewelry, cameos from a few other people, demigod - Freeform, demon, enchanted buildings and furniture, just a random story, making deals, supernatural creature au, vampire, wedding crashing in no detail, which is a table in this fic, who then turns good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3142808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMountain/pseuds/CherryMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is a demon, cast out by his king, now on the run from hunters, human and supernatural alike. When he stumbles upon a neutral bar, he takes refuge from those that want him dead, and happens to befriend an entire group of misfit creatures in similar situations: looking for safety and a fresh start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Their Name Was Treason

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it’d be cool to write a supernatural AU, and so I started writing shit, and it somehow ended up growing into 12k+ words. Kind of an intro, really, and I hope to have a sequel up soon enough. Kudos to my twin OnyxRing who looked this over but I posted it anyway. The title is the name of an album, but don’t listen to it if you don’t like screamo. And I wrote this in two days, so if it sucks, that’s why, and you know I’ll get to editing it. Enjoy!
> 
> Differences between skin-walkers, shapeshifters, and shifters, are in the end notes, if anyone gets confused.

Tony finds the bar and stumbles in, dirty, weak, aching, and tired.  He’s glad for the chance to take a breath, to relax, because he now knows he’s safe.

The bartender, Tony heard, wasn’t the owner, but a keeper of the bar, and didn’t tolerate violence, because his place was a sanctuary. He didn’t question who you were, what you did, or why you were there, because everyone has issues, mistakes they’ve made, and all deserved a place to hide. If you were being chased, he’d give you a necklace that would keep you off the map, but you couldn’t leave the building, in fear of stealing. Tony came to the bar specifically for this, for the warding and a place he didn’t want to leave, because the deal he made not two days ago was starting to wear off, and they’d be after him soon enough.

When a man- or what looked like a man, you couldn’t be sure in the supernatural world- touched his shoulder, Tony immediately tensed and sent a glare through his now black eyes. But then he remembered that the place was supposed to be safe, and if he pissed anyone off, he wouldn’t get sanctuary and most likely get kicked out. So he forced himself to take a deep breath, to relax, and study the man.

The man was crouched by Tony’s slumped form, studying him back with suspicious eyes, but they immediately softened when Tony allowed his own to. “A demon, on the run?” He said it in disbelief, because demons never accepted help, and here was one, doing the exact opposite.

Tony snorted, doing his best not to give away a snarky comment. He needed these people to trust him. “We all can’t be perfect.” It was something humans said, but it fit here.

The man nodded. He was tall, lean, with experienced and aged eyes, his hair growing salty around the ears, with a trimmed goatee similar to Tony’s. He wore a long dark duster, with plenty of rings and necklaces of stones and trinkets. A sorcerer. “Welcome to Safe Haven,” he said, stepping away from Tony, seeing that he wasn’t going to fall to the ground.

Tony snorted again at hearing the words Safe Haven spoken out loud, it was so ridiculous. He let himself look around the bar, where all eyes were turned to him. There were a few men at the bar, a table with four around it, another with two, and one table in the back that held a woman, gaze deep. And lastly, there was a man by the back door, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, eyes hooded.

The sorcerer stepped back, and that was when Tony noticed the half circle of runes around the door, with a yard or two in diameter, to keep all unwanted visitors trapped at the door. He immediately looked to the man, whose eyes were now glowing a bright pale yellow, and the runes on the floor followed. “Who sent you?”

Tony allowed himself to finally glare. So much for trying to be nice, the guy didn’t even trust him. He squared his shoulders, preparing for a fight and to bring forth whatever power he had left from the deal, the power that he wasn’t using trying to keep himself invisible. “I’m no longer bound to a master, higher-up or a summoner,” Tony told him, and it was true. No one sent him: he was on the fucking run for a reason.

“Then who pointed you toward us?” The sorcerer asked, in complete control on the situation. Tony could leave through the door, but then he wouldn’t get the warding he needed.

So he told the truth, because he needed this. He had never been desperate before, but then again, no one had been trying to kill him before. No one that actually _could_ , anyway. “He went by the name of Cage. A stone fae?” Tony’s glare deepened. “He said I wouldn’t get asked any questions.”

The sorcerer shrugged, but he seemed determined to get Tony to crack. “We have to make sure you’re not lying. We don’t allow violence, and if you’re here to kill-”

“I’m not,” Tony ground out through clenched teeth. Damn it, he could feel his power draining by the minute. “I broke the rules, gave my powers to the wrong people, and an entire town suffered because of it.” Thousands, murdered. But there could have been more, if Tony hadn’t left.

The sorcerer nodded, as if it was a good enough answer, and his eyes slowly faded back to his natural blue, the runes returning to pale marks on the wooden floor. “I didn’t think Luke was serious. A demon.” He shook his head, his gaze still slightly suspicious, but also in humorous disbelief.

Tony’s mouth fell open, but then he quickly composed himself, not allowing himself to crack. “You already knew?”

“Luke sent word ahead,” the sorcerer said, a smirk spreading across his face. “I just had to make sure you were really you, the demon in trouble.” The man turned away, as if everything was fine, now that he knew Tony wasn’t going to rip his head off. “You’re welcome to a room, there’s plenty open downstairs.”

Tony followed him to the bar. Now that he was in the clear, he needed that ward. “I was told I could be warded. So they can’t track me.” Tony was told that most only stayed for a few nights, until they were in the clear with their own problems. Not many were warded and stayed for over a week. But Tony was here to be hidden, to find a safer place to live, like humans in witness protection. Except Tony had demons after him, his own kind; they weren’t going to stop looking for him until he was torn to shreds and thrown into a cell in hell.

The bartender rose an eyebrow at Tony’s suddenly desperate tone. “That’s correct,” he said, but he didn’t outwardly judge, just grabbed a clean dishtowel and began wiping down the counter. Tony sighed, relief flooding through him, but the sorcerer continued. “But you’ll owe me a debt.”

Tony was about to argue, that he had nothing to give but succumb himself to a master, and he certainly wasn’t going to make a deal with a sorcerer, but he was interrupted. “Nothing similar to what you demons dapple in,” the sorcerer was saying, smirk present once more. “Just a favor, one I rarely cash in. Nothing big, either. Usually just information.

Tony frowned, but after contemplating that it would suffice, he nodded. The sorcerer paused, and actually looked to the demon. “I’ll need to hear it.”

Tony’s breath caught, his frown deepening. A demon, giving his word? That never happened, it was always the other way around. A demon making this kind of deal meant they were desperate, and Tony was. But he didn’t need all these people knowing that. A demon! He’d be the first of his kind, a disappointment, an outcast. But he was already all these things, with all his race ready to call him a traitor. This deal would save his life, and no matter how much Tony hated it, he took in a deep breath and agreed anyway.

He did so through clenched teeth, a glare set across his entire body. “I give you my word, Sorcerer; I will owe you a favor if you give me safe asylum.”

The sorcerer smiled, head tilted in cruel appreciation. “I’ll go find you a stone.” And with that, he disappeared into what must be a kitchen.

When Tony surveyed the bar again, everyone had turned away, no longer seeing the desperate demon as a threat, chatter rising up. All but the lone woman in the back, and the man by the back door.

A moment later, the sorcerer returned, his eyes flashing that same pale yellow as he stepped behind the bar once more, holding an item in his hand. Once he was across from Tony, and his eyes back to normal, he held out his hand and allowed the charm to drop, holding the jewelry by a chain. “Wear it, and no one will be able to track you. But you cannot leave the bar. If you take it off, you will leave, because I will not allow whoever it is chasing you to come to this bar and harass us.”

Tony nodded, accepting the terms, and reached for the necklace. It was a dark bronze chain, and the charm was a bright ruby stone, with what looked like a similarly bronze metal clawed fist holding it to the chain. Tony had a feeling this charm had been specifically picked for him, but he didn’t react on it and slipped it over his neck so it settled in the center of his chest.

Tony immediately felt the power from the necklace wash over him, and he relaxed completely, knowing he wouldn’t have to use any power at all. It was nice, not having to worry.

“It will begin to glow when someone has cast a locating spell,” the sorcerer said, returning to his counter. “But don’t worry; you will be safe here.”

Tony nodded, grateful that the sorcerer was no longer suspicious of him, and stepped away from the bar. He found his way downstairs, into a basement that was one of those magical rooms that was actually bigger on the inside than the outside, to find a large lounge room before it led into a long hallway with many doors on each side. The lounge had multiple couches and a fridge, as if it were a living room, but it was abandoned.

Tony marched past the lounge and checked the first door, which was a pale green with a gold trimming, marked 01, with _OCCUPIED_ underneath the number in small letters. He checked the next, and it said the same under the door number. He spotted a few _VACANT_ s under some numbers, but stopped at the _VACANT_ 09 and made his way in.

A flash of light appeared on the door when he stepped in, changing from _VACANT_ to _OCCUPIED_ , then it lay unmoved. He stepped into the dark room, fumbling for a light switch, but he found an enchanted lantern instead. He ran his hand over the runes on it, and they lit up, igniting the lantern in a glowing orange light. Three other lanterns around the room did the same, and Tony could now see the whole room, with a bed pushed into the corner, a side table, a small dresser, and the closet and bathroom on one side of the room, completing the perfect square quarters.

* * *

Tony woke to a red glow in the pitch black room. He immediately sat up, startled by the glow, but it was only the ward necklace. Which meant someone was looking for him.

Demons never had to sleep, and Tony hadn’t done so in years. But, evidently, he had been too exhausted from running, but somehow he felt better. He didn’t need to go make deals and gain power to ward himself, because the necklace did it for him. He felt rejuvenated, alive. But he couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down; they were still after him - that much was evident from the glowing ruby stone.

The demon got up, picking up his jacket he didn’t remember taking off. The leather fit snugly over his Henley, and his denim jeans; at least he wasn’t one of those prick demons that wore suits. Or _angels_ , ugh, it was like everything had to be formal or something.

He stepped from his room, not bothering to switch on the lanterns, and into the bright hallway that was lit by its own enchanted lanterns. He closed the door behind him, ready to lock it, but then he thought there was no point to it. He had no personal effects, nothing to hide; the room was just a place to sleep for him. The words on the door remained, however, even as Tony stepped away from the wood. It somehow knew that he was there to stay, at least for now.

Upstairs, he found that it was just the break of dawn, and there were only a few patrons in the bar. There was a large burly man at the bar nursing alcohol, another at a table eating a plate of eggs and pancakes, and the same woman in the corner booth, back to the wall. Unlike the men, she made eye contact with Tony, and held his gaze. He was about to ignore her, go find the sorcerer to get some alcohol, because demons can drink whenever they want, and apparently so can anyone if the guy at the bar had a say, but something kept him from moving that way.

The woman eventually looked away, back down to her table and the journal there, her fingers fiddling with a pen. She was pale, almost glowing, with rich wavy red hair, and piercing blue eyes. She wore a black dress, with a black jacket over that, fishnet leggings, black boots, dark makeup. Tony stepped closer to her, and he felt the intensity, suspicion, and strength, rolling off of her, and when he was close enough she looked back up to him, eyes set in a “I will tear you down if you try anything” look. Terrifying and dangerous, but there was no power behind her, only her speed and strength. A vampire, and a deadly one, at that.

Tony sat himself across from her, ignoring her pointed glare and how much she certainly didn’t want him there. He glanced down at the journal, but she quickly closed it, her pen a bookmark in whatever she had been writing. Then Tony saw the necklace that rested just above her cleavage. One similar to his own, a small ruby gem on a black chain, black metal twisting around it three times to keep it in place. She needed sanctuary, too.

“What’s a beautiful bloodsucker like you doing in a place like this?”

She immediately rose her eyebrows. “ _I’m_ the bloodsucker?”

Tony saw her point, and he leaned forward, resting his chest on his folded arms. “We should have a contest sometime, see who sheds more blood,” he told her, brows lifting in a challenge, to wait for her to object, because her comment made him think she was one of the good ones.

However, she ignored it, and glanced down at his necklace, as if judging him. “Which demon are you?”

Huh. The vampires face was so neutral and blank, Tony couldn’t tell if she was asking out of curiosity, boredom, as an insult, or sizing him up. Maybe he should be asking the same of her.

Telling her who he was wasn’t the brightest idea, given that most who’ve heard of him want him dead, because he was _evil_. Bu what more could you ask of a demon? To unleash unicorns and rainbows on the world? He was _made_ to create chaos and pain.

“They call me Anthony,” he said, a tilt of his eyebrows and his head, showing that he was proud of himself. Not many saw through his façade. She didn’t have to know that he regretted what happened, that entire town. He did have some good in him, after all; everyone did.

Her eyes immediately squinted in what Tony thought could be disgust. She didn’t say anything, but Tony didn’t like the glare she was giving him, so he thought he’d explain himself. “Tony isn’t a great demon name, but I thought Anthony was powerful, in its own way.”

She set her arms onto the table, leaning toward him as well. “I’ve heard what you’ve done,” she said quietly, and Tony tried to hide his frown as her words stung him to his core. “You steal souls, wreak havoc on innocents, all for fun. You always disobeyed your boss, stole souls for your own power, created slaves and despair.” She glanced between his eyes, and Tony forced himself to grin. She shook her head. “But I see something else in your eyes that says differently.”

Tony allowed himself to glare at her. “If you know me so well, then you know I can rip your throat out and give it to my hellhound for a collar, vampire or not.”

She smirked, cocking her head to the side and back. “I hear that your hound never made it out of Hell.”

His glare deepened, jaw clenching. How was everyone so confident around a demon? And how did she know that?

“We’re equals here, _Anthony_ ,” she was saying, straightening in her seat, but still eyeing him. “The necklaces mark us as outcasts, waiting to be led into a new life. Remember that, when whoever is hunting you comes, and everyone in this bar stand up for you, because we’re all in the same boat.”

She was standing before he could reply, grabbing her journal and sashaying over to the counter where the sorcerer had returned, waiting for her. Tony followed her movements across the bar, feeling his glare deepen even further. The sorcerer handed her a wine glass full of a dark red liquid, probably blood, since she was a vampire. “Thank you, Stephen,” she told him with a nod, accepting the glass.

“Still want another this evening?” The sorcerer asked. She gave him a look, one Tony couldn’t see. He shrugged, giving her a small smile. “Just making sure, Natasha. You will need a fresh kill, eventually.”

She turned away from him, holding the wine glass at waist level. “I’ll let you know, Strange.” Then she was at the stairs, heading down to the basement, and her words registered with Tony.

Stephen Strange, the strongest sorcerer in the books, and Tony was living under his roof, or whoever’s roof this was. Someone so powerful, but using his powers for neutrality.

It really sucked being a supernatural fugitive, or Tony would have been trying to steal some of his magic.

* * *

Tony wasn’t expecting so many warded people in one bar, but he met another that evening, when the bar was at its fullest, creatures of all kinds under one sanctuary. Tony saw two summer fairies, a succubus, a sorceress and her familiar, a genie, a necromancer, a shifter, and a skin-walker. He moved to the bar for the sorcerer supreme to get him some alcohol, and then he studied the activity in the bar.

The sorceress was speaking with the sorcerer, but Tony didn’t know that much about the creatures to know if they were exchanging spells or simply bonding over their shared abilities. She wore a long, scarlet dress, hugging her curves but flowing across her legs. She had wild yet styled hair, and her stair was just as wild. She looked like she was ready to rip your arms off, the power just behind her gaze flowing without a leash.

Her familiar, a man clearly bonded to her because he kept by her side at all times, kept an eye on the rest of the bar. Tony could feel the protectiveness pouring off of him. He reminded Tony of a robot, in a way, the way he stood, unmoving, yet surveying everything.

The fairies looked as if they were selling magical trinkets. Tony felt the power seeping off them and the trinkets, as well. The succubus was speaking with the necromancer, and the skin-walker kept to herself at the back of the room. They all just seemed to enjoy each other’s company, in a place where they knew species and which side you were on didn’t matter. They were all just people, here without fear and to be themselves.

Tony wasn’t sure yet if he liked it or not.

The genie was moving around the bar from patron to patron, and as he approached the sorcerer’s, Tony could hear that he was trying to sell wishes. Genies could sense others’ desires, and with their power, did their best to make that possible. Most had a price, however, but the sorceress wasn’t buying.

“You are aware that I am a sorceress, and can summon enough power to grant my own wishes.”

The genie frowned, and he looked like he was going to say more, but he looked up as a new patron walked in. Strange looked up as well, but must have recognized him, because he turned back to his conversation with the sorceress.

The genie immediately straightened and approached the newcomer, a skin-walker by the look of his animalistic walk. “Hey, Logan, how about that wish? Get that babe of yours to finally-”

“Not interested, Bub,” the skin-walker said, not even giving the genie a glance as he made his way across the bar.

But the genie didn’t let down as they moved. “C’mon, help a guy out. Your wish is so _easy_ , how could you not want-”

The walker stopped, swiftly clutching the genie’s shirt in his hand and pressing him into the bar, right next to Tony. He didn’t move an inch as the shifter leaned threateningly at the genie. “I’ve told you multiple times, Wilson; leave me alone, or I’ll cut your boys off and shove them down your throat.”

The genie let out a laugh. “Aw, man, you kill me.” The skin-walker released him and began walking again. The genie followed. “But really, let’s make this deal. I’ll make it completely natural.”

This time, the walker ignored him as the genie followed him out back.

“Hey, Strange,” a woman said as she stepped in the bar, catching Tony’s attention as well. When the sorcerer looked up, the newcomer hooked her thumb over her shoulder gesturing out the door. “There’s a wolf out here, stirring up trouble. Looks like a loner. He _might_ be getting into a fight with a demigod.”

Though she was only addressing the bartender, many ears perked at this, and Tony found himself rising as the sorcerer made his way to the door with two others who were as curious as Tony. The demon immediately knew they were talking of a werewolf, not an actual wolf, and he hadn’t seen a were in years. He wanted in on this action.

He followed Strange outside, behind the phoenix that noticed the wolf and the shifter that had come out with them, and paused just outside the building, the necromancer pausing in the doorway.

There was indeed a large wolf, hackles raised, fangs bared and dripping with drool, eyes a blood red, crouched ready to leap. But there didn’t seem to be any danger for the wolf. Just a large, muscular blonde man gently talking to it, the air crackling with tension and electricity. Tony immediately felt the power seeping off the man, and knew that he was indeed a demigod, son of a god.

“There will be no violence here, Were,” the sorcerer said loudly to the wolf, but the beast didn’t seem to hear him, only jump around at a noise behind him, which was just the rustle of trees. When the wolf spun around again, it leaped at the blonde man without warning.

The wolf’s teeth ripped into the demigods arm, but the man didn’t cry out in pain. They tumbled to the ground, the wolf on the demigod, snarling and pulling on his arm, but the god simply grunted and threw the wolf off him.

“I don’t think it’s sane,” the phoenix said as Strange summoned a spell to put a wall between the two fighters, three or four yards wide. Tony didn’t think it would be that much of a help. “It may be a lone bitten.”

The wolf, after skidding through the dirt, lifted itself from the ground and glared at the pale green wall of light between him and his enemy, the blonde demigod that was rising himself.

“I was simply trying to calm the beast down,” he said as he rose and cast a glance at the wall, then to the sorcerer casting it.

Strange rattled off something about violence again, but at the same moment, when he seemed too preoccupied with explaining to the demigod, the wolf leaped again. It made contact with the wall, but it quickly recovered and bound around the wall.

Tony didn’t even know what he was doing when he stepped forward and summoned his power. He hadn’t been in a fair fight in years, and something inside him just wanted a fight, to see if he could go up against this seemingly mindless beast.

He brought forth his fire, and when the wolf made it around the wall in two leaps, stopping at the edge to snarl at Tony, the demon had fire in his eyes. As the wolf leaped toward him, he grinned, sending forth his power in a wave, hoping to knock the beast from the air. He hadn’t put enough force into it, and so the beast still came at him, and the two tumbled to the ground, teeth shredding into Tony’s neck.

He cried out, because even if he couldn’t die like humans, it still fucking _hurt_ , pain that was consistent. He retaliated by gripping the paws that were digging into his chest, bringing his fire to burn the wolf. The beast shrieked, a whine piercing the air as it jumped off the demon. Tony sat up, despite the pain, and sent another wave through the air, pushing with all his might, this time successfully throwing the wolf into the air and at the wall.

Then, suddenly, it was over just as fast as it started. Tony felt himself pinned to the floor by a powerful force, as if a large hand was pressing him into the earth. He heard the howl of the wolf abruptly cut off, and then silence.

The next thing he knew, there was a searing pain across his wrists, and he was being dragged into the bar through the open door and slammed against a bare wall. When he opened his eyes through the pain, he saw Strange in the doorway of the bar, eyes glowing a bright green, holding his hand in the air.

Tony looked down at his wrists, which felt like barbed wire was being dragged across them, to see glowing shackles around the limbs. He felt the fire in his eyes still, but all his power seemed to be sucked into the shackles.

Behind him, Strange was dragging in the unconscious wolf with his magic, and the three outside were walking in behind him.

“Everyone who is not seeking a haven, leave,” Strange said loudly, addressing the bar, his eyes still glowing green.

Tony cringed against the pain, and struggled to be free, but this man’s magic was more powerful than his own, which should have been impossible, but Tony _had_ been drained a lot from the past week.

Moments later, most patrons had left, and Strange was addressing the blonde demigod, whom he nodded to, allowing him to pass over the runes.

“I told you, Demon; no violence.” The sorcerer was glaring at him through his still glowing eyes, wrapping the unconscious wolf in a dome of magic to prevent him from awaking.

The shifter looked around nervously, as if he wanted to butt in, and Tony cast him a look. He was tall, extremely buff, tamed blonde hair. He could immediately draw the attention of most people in the room, and he had a glow about him, that shrilled _good_. But he, along with the demigod, remained silent.

Then Tony was released, and he dropped to the floor, bleeding and breathless. He must have been sapped, because in seconds he was sucked into unconsciousness.

* * *

Anthony opened his eyes and found himself crumpled on the floor, where he had been pinned to the wall. Whatever the sorcerer had done to him was causing his wounds to hurt, where they usually wouldn’t, because he was still in pain. He struggled to sit up and stretch out his aching limbs, groaning aloud.

Then he felt the floor beneath him rumbling.

The entire building was shaking, a deep humming vibrating through the air, a great force trying to break apart the building. The magic held, but the glowing charm around Tony’s neck told him exactly what was happening.

The demons were here, searching for Tony.

“ _Fucking demons_ ,” someone muttered, and Tony looked up to see Strange coming out from behind the counter and straight toward Tony. His eyes lit green, and before Tony could realize what was happening, the magic was dragging him across the floor to the side of the bar, out of sight from both doors. He groaned as he slammed into it. Fucking sorcerer can’t even be gentle.

He heard the slam of the door as he tried to fight the pain, but he could barely hear what was being said from his dark corner, over the pounding in his head, and the scratching ache across his neck and chest. He reached up and felt the gouged skin across his neck, the scratches across his chest and his torn clothing, and the dried blood mixed with dirt and sweat.

“…over our kind to deal with. It’s only fair.”

“This is neutral territory-”

Tony cringed when he tried to lift himself, his injured shoulder flaring in pain from the wounds. So moving was not a good idea.

“-hunters are on their way,” someone growled, and Tony did his best to tune in to the conversation. “You’d be a traitor to let the humans have our kind.”

“…your kind, Demon. Leave, before I send you back to Hell.”

Tony could imagine the looks they were sending each other, but eventually, the door closed, and Strange was standing over him again. As the sorcerer was lifting him into the air, Tony caught a glimpse of the bar through his spotted vision, and the few patrons gathered around a table. He even saw the crumpled form of a naked man in the corner, which was where the wolf had been last time he checked. And then he was in the basement, groaning at the bright lights, being lead down the hall, and into his room.

“…heal you,” Strange was saying as Tony was thrown onto his bed. “I’d need a source of energy to draw the magic, and I’m not wasting that magic on you.”

Then the sorcerer was gone, leaving the door open as he went, causing all the lights around Tony to blind him.

* * *

He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep again, maybe just stared as the pain engulfed him. He struggled, trying to keep the pain at bay, wishing he could roll into the fetal position, but there was too much. Time went by, and then suddenly he caught a flash of movement, dragging him from whatever state he was in.

He groaned as he peered around, catching a figure in the doorway, before pain exploded across his body again. Then, that figure was moving, entering the room, at least blocking out some of the light.

“They said you were the one that stopped me.”

The voice was male, low and quite, laced with guilt, defeat, and sorrow. Tony looked to the man that was now kneeling beside the bed, brows furrowing in his confusion. What was he talking about? Then Tony spotted the shaggy brown hair, naked and dirty chest, and oversized pants. He looked wild. And with what he said… this was the werewolf.

Suddenly, the man was speaking again, eyes cast down. “I can usually control it, but when it gets to be too much…” he turned his head, his hands gripping the bed sheets. “People get hurt.”

Tony blinked through the pain echoing across him, wondering why the werewolf was telling him this.

“Usually, no one can stop me. I think the…” he seemed to struggle with the word, uncertain. “ _demigod_ might have, but it was you. I don’t know much about demons, but I guess you’re powerful, if you have the right tools.” He turned back to Tony, eyes trailing down the demons mangled body. That was when Tony noticed the necklace resting on his bare chest. It was a gold stone, encased in a silver chain, a thin silver tail holding the stone to the chain. “I want to repay you, for stopping me from hurting anyone else. I’m told you can heal, but you need the energy.” He met Tony’s gaze. “I want to help.”

Tony snorted, though it was more of a cough. “You really don’t know anything about demons,” he said, but this erupted into an actual fit of coughing, and he groaned when the movement caused more pain. He closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths to steady himself.

“Let me help you heal.”

It was like a whisper, ghosting over him. There was a deep ache within him. _Yes, you need help_ , a voice told him, and it reminded him of Rhodes, one of his partners from hell. _It’ll take days for you to heal, but what if the hunters show up, and demand your head? How will you protect yourself?_

And so he felt himself nodding, struggling around a breath. “I’ll need blood,” he said weakly, but the wolf must have heard him, because when Tony opened his eyes, the man was gone.

“Damn it,” he said to the empty room. Scared the dog off, asking for his blood. Maybe the guy had seen too much of it, with his whole story about killing plenty of people. Well, not in those exact words. Agh, thinking was hurting.

He closed his eyes again, clenching his hands into fists at his side to direct the pain. How was he still conscious?

Then the shuffling of clothes forced Tony to open his eyes again to see the werewolf crouching at his side again. He held metal, a short kitchen knife, and he was eyeing it as if it was going to attack him. But he steadied a breath, and turned back to Tony. “What do I do?”

Tony almost laughed at his nervousness. Well, he would have, if he wasn’t in pain. “Cut yourself.”

The man’s mouth fell open, brows furrowing in confusion. Tony glanced from his eyes watching the shock cross them. “Wh-where?”

Tony crunched his eyes shut for a moment, declaring all newbies idiots, because what kind of question was that, then took another breath. “Your hand,” he groaned out. “Or your wrist. Whatever, just draw blood.”

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the wolf held up his arm, and glanced at the knife in his hand, then his arm. He took in shaky breaths, then closed his eyes, and brought the knife up. He bit his lip as he pulled the metal across his skin, cringing. As it pierced the skin and it began leaking the red liquid, Tony saw his eyes flash open, a terrifying red filling them as his face contorted in pain, panic, and anger at the same time. Man, this wolf really did have a hard time controlling himself.

After a moment of shaky breathing, the wolf focused back on his arm, which was now steadily dripping blood, then glanced to the demon. “Now what?”

Tony winced uncontrollably. “Now say ‘I give thee this blood,’” he said through a shaky breath, eyes darting open to stare at the blood dripping onto the bed sheets.

The man swallowed a lump in his throat, eyes darting from Tony to his arm. “I-I give thee this blood” he stuttered out, and immediately after the words were spoken, Tony darted his hand up and wrapped it around the bleeding cut, ignoring the pain the movement brought, causing the man to cry out in surprise.

Tony instantly used whatever strength he had left to absorb that blood and begin to heal himself, with permission from those words. His grip tightened on the arm, but Tony didn’t hear the hiss from the man. Power erupted inside of him, and he let out a moan as he felt it spread throughout his limbs, caressing his wounds, mending them, nourishing them, bringing a satisfying calm. He pulled the energy from the werewolf, felt the anger and despair from him as Tony used that fuel to heal himself, and it was exhilarating.

Within half a minute, he was taking in a deep breath, the fire within burning bright, and he felt alive again. When he could breathe evenly, and move without causing pain, he knew he was healed, and it felt _good_. Whatever this wolf was made of brought a high to the demon.

He found himself grinning as he could focus on the werewolf, who was still seething from Tony’s grip and the pull. His eyes were glowing red, pulled into a glare, unfocused. Tony released him, and the wolf immediately stood and backed away, looking down to his arm. But the blood was gone, the cut healed, and now that Tony wasn’t touching him, he was completely fine.

Tony stood, now able to glance down at his clothes, which were still covered in dirt and grime. The necklace was still intact, inevitably able to withstand the sharp claws of a beast. Which meant he was still safe, and he didn’t care if acknowledging that made him sound paranoid.

Then the wolf was looking at him, all signs of the anger gone, leaving behind only his mangy, torn look. He was still dirty, his hair knotted and ragged, and he matched Tony, in a way, with the clothing- or none, in his case- blood everywhere, worn out, but now both refreshed.

After a long moment of staring at each other, the werewolf held his hand out. “I’m Bruce.”

Tony rolled the name around in his head. It was okay, he supposed. Not spontaneous, or average. He hesitated to throw his hand out and clasp it in Bruce’s. Having used the man felt wrong, but Bruce seemed fine, strong enough to handle it, and Tony hoped his eyes said thanks enough for his rejuvenation. “Tony.”

Holy shit.

He was turning into a softie.

* * *

Bruce somehow found an oversized long-sleeved shirt after he left Tony’s room, and Tony peeked out in the hall to see that the werewolf was in the room across from him. The demon leaned in his doorway, watching the werewolf tug the shirt over his head, then look up to Tony.

“So you didn’t kill on purpose.” Tony didn’t know why he was asking, or even that he was, until the words had left his mouth. Bruce looked to the floor, sadness shadowing his face, and Tony didn’t know why, but he felt the need to change the subject, so the werewolf didn’t have to think about it, because Tony had done the same thing, and _he_ didn’t want to talk about it, he was such a fucking idiot.

But then Bruce was moving to the door, rubbing the back of his neck, speaking quietly. “Being a bitten werewolf, the change is harder for me to control.” Werewolf 101, but Tony wasn’t going to point that out. “I was reminded of my mother’s death, how my father had…” he shook his head. “I guess I was so angry, that when I got bit, that anger was intensified. The wolf that changed me tried to help, brought me to his pack, but any hint of anger sparked the change, and it was so much deadlier than they thought.

“I blacked out, and when I woke up, most of the pack was dead or injured, and the people…” he lowered his arm from his neck, keeping his gaze firmly on the floor. “There were dozens. The wolf is just so angry, and he ripped them apart. One by one. I was covered in their blood, surrounded by their lifeless bodies. I tried to get help from others that had dealt with this before, but they all wanted to bring the wolf out, to control it, but they didn’t understand that he isn’t to be reasoned with.”

His face was now… barren, from despair, guilt, and inner hatred. Tony could see it, because hearing his words… Tony had let a lot of people down, and normally he didn’t give a shit about humans, or other beings in general. But giving his power away, letting someone abuse it and kill hundreds in the blink of an eye, innocent people, for no reason other than to get even more power for a spell… He regretted it, because those people got nothing from that, didn’t even know what they were getting into. Tony had never done anything like it, those that he caused harm got something out of him, knew what they were doing, wanted it and were willing to make a deal with a demon to get it. It was so wrong, what he did, so he knew how Bruce was feeling, in a way, and he regretted asking.

He wished he could erase it, or at least cover himself back up, put on the mask, so Bruce didn’t see that he wanted to, but it didn’t come. Instead, all he saw was Bruce, going through the same thing, except he hadn’t done it willingly.

Bruce lifted his head, but he still kept his gaze down and away. “I’ve learned to keep him in, but sometimes, when my emotions are heightened, or I’m about to die, he comes out, and I can’t control it. And when I do, _I_ have to provoke him. I have to take the reins and drag him out, and then keep that hold on him and not let go, or more will suffer because of me.”

“But,” Tony said, his voice cracking, and he glanced down to his feet as he folded his arms across his chest. He wanted to make this better for Bruce, because he wasn’t alone, he shouldn’t hate himself, it wasn’t _him_. “It wasn’t your fault. You cannot blame yourself for that.”

Bruce shook his head, eyes finally meeting Tony’s, and the man looked defeated. “He kills people, even now, if I’m not careful. I’m not strong enough to hold him back. It _is_ my fault.” Anger slowly creeped into his eyes as he stared Tony down. “But I can’t give myself to them to kill me, because they won’t do it. They want to use me as a weapon, but I can’t do that to innocent people. So the only thing to do is run. Run, and hope I don’t set him free. You, of all people, should understand.”

Tony felt his mouth open, but nothing came out, because he didn’t know what to say. That he did understand, but he didn’t agree. Bruce was innocent, and Tony had done what he did on purpose, had _wanted_ to do it. He’d been doing the same things for decades; he was a selfish demon, like the rest of his kind, and deserved what he got.

But Bruce…

“You’re wrong,” Tony finally said, lowering his arms, and watching Bruce open his mouth to object, but Tony cut him off with a glare. “It’s true, I’ve done some horrible shit, worse than you and your monster. But that’s where we’re different. I was strong enough to turn away, and I didn’t. Not when I stole the life of a man for his wife to take him back, or got rid of cancer only to kill the guy two years later when they didn’t hold up their end. Certainly not when I laughed as a dozen virgins were slaughtered for one demon to be free from hell.”

Tony stepped across the hall, getting into Bruce’s personal space. “There’s more. So much more, and going through all of it is torture in itself. I deserve what’s on its way, and will gladly accept any punishment brought onto me. But you’re one of the good guys. You killed one time in your life, and you knew it was bad, when it took thousands for me to realize the same thing. Don’t forget that when others need your help, and you refuse to give it, knowing that you’re risking letting the beast out, but you’ll always have those reigns.”

When Bruce did nothing to respond, just gape up at him, Tony nodded and stormed back into his room.

* * *

Bruce disappeared after that, and Tony got bored and was about to go find him or anyone. Bruce’s door was closed across the hall, darkness seeping through the cracks, and Tony was debating knocking on his door when he heard a ruckus upstairs. He stepped onto the ground floor and saw that all patrons but Strange were looking to a small table, where two men were seated.

Tony immediately recognized them as the demigod and the shifter, from the werewolf incident, however long ago it was. It was still dark, so it could have been hours, or an entire day.

“-am told it is a way humans show their strength,” the demigod was saying, as the shifter settled into a chair across from him.

The shifter shook his head, a small smirk on his face. “We’re not humans, buddy.”

Then the two lifted their right arms onto the table and brought their hands together. They shifted their fingers and elbows, preparing, and with a signal Tony didn’t see, the two commenced their arm wrestle.

A female skin-walker- Tony could smell the fear pheromones pouring off her- watched from the bar, turning her back to the tender, mumbling a short, “This outta be good.” She had flowing black hair that rested across her red leather jacket. Her gaze was predatory, and totally hot.

One would have assumed that the demigod would have instantly won, what having the power of gods, but after a moment, a moment where the shifter still held, the gods face fell into that of concentration, and the shifter winced, clenching his teeth in his effort.

“How-” the demigod muttered, now angry. “I am the son of-”

The shifter shook his head, interrupting him once again. “Your dad must have really done a job on you.” But it was a friendly statement, because the shifter looked like he couldn’t harm a fly unless it had killed an entire village.

Just when it seemed that the shifter had the upper hand, the demigod got the leverage.

“Ten on the god,” someone announced, and all eyes momentarily glanced at the grinning pyromancer at a table by the door.

Tony found himself grinning himself. “Twenty on the shifter.” Eyes turned to him. He stepped forward, raising his eyebrows in defiance at the younger being. “But if you want to make this more interesting, I’ll take your-”

But he never got the words out, because Strange was growling his name, and Tony frowned, wondering who told him it. He shrugged it off, claiming they were wusses anyway. It’s not like he could take souls anyway, not when he didn’t have a place in Hell to keep them.

“C’mon,” the pyromancer exclaimed, his hair glimmering in the light. “How can anyone match up to a god?”

The skin-walker shook her head, turning back to the bar to ask Strange for a drink.

The match seemed at a stalemate, both men shifting to get the upper hand, inching one way, then the other, and moments later, it was over when their arms touched down on the table.

Tony marched triumphantly to the bar, shooting a finger out at the pyromancer. “You’re up, Pyro.” The being didn’t seem all that happy to lose, and he earned a few chuckles as he slumped to the bar in defeat.

As Strange lined up some shots, and the shifter and god stood, Tony declared shots on him, getting a holler from a man in the back. As Pyro paid, Tony started offering shots. Both the shifter and the demigod shuffled from the table, and though the god seemed miserable, that instantly turned around when he was offered the drink and downed it immediately.

The shifter claimed he didn’t drink, eyeing the demon, and Tony just shrugged, mumbling more for him.

Natasha appeared, but Tony didn’t remember seeing her up here, and she stole a drink without asking, downing it and returning the glass down to the bar. With a glance at Tony, who grinned her way, she turned to Strange. “I’m expecting a friend to arrive.”

Strange didn’t react other than giving her a brief glance. “He won’t bring any trouble?”

Natasha’s gaze flashed to Tony, who was listening in, obviously. “He’s new to this plane, but he knows when to keep his mouth shut.”

Strange nodded, accepting her word. Tony wondered if Strange had asked the same thing to Cage about him.

Patrons came in and out, and when it didn’t get lighter, Tony assumed he had been unconscious the night before for an entire day. It was sometime after the arm wrestling when Tony tuned in to the story of how Thor was cast to this plane. His father had claimed him arrogant and a fool, and restricted his powers until Thor knew what it was like to be helpless. Helpless, but still want to help, give up his life for the greater good. Thor got his powers restored, with a lesson learned, and he was just now kicking things up again. And, he liked the humans so much, he hadn’t wanted to leave this plane. He found this bar to sleep in, until he could accumulate himself into human culture without suspicion.

Then the shifter told his story, of how he’d just been readmitted into the world. Some water nymph had frozen him seventy years earlier- Steve had yet to know why- and her daughter had broken the spell a few weeks ago. He hadn’t known what to do; all his friends were dead or gone, and he had no one to turn to. So he asked around, and eventually got directions of this bar that would give him a place to stay until he could get things straightened out.

The demon was listening to the demigod explain how he only lost to the arm wrestling because he was cast out from his plane, but Natasha denying it saying that the shifter was strong and underestimated, when the door to the bar slammed open.

A lean blonde stepped in, with short unruly hair revealing slightly pointed ears. He was holding a bow with an arrow cocked, a quiver full of arrows, and swords strapped to his back and thighs, a warrior ready for a fight, eyes wide, taking in everything. When he saw no immediate threat, he lowered the bow, easing up on the arrow.

The runes on the floor immediately lit, and Strange rose an eyebrow at the vampire. “No trouble, huh?”

The archer’s gaze landed on the redhead, who was rising from her chair. “Tasha. They’re on their way, I barely outran them.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and his statement created the rest of the patrons to tense.

“Who’s on their way?” Strange asked, eyes fading, allowing the archer to enter. He returned the arrow to his quiver and stepped in, glancing around but making a beeline for Natasha, who met him halfway.

“The portal must have alerted them,” he was saying, and Tony found himself standing with the shifter, Steve, ready for action. When Natasha said nothing, the archer looked up, glancing once again across the supernatural creatures. “I don’t know how they followed me, but they must have been ready for a fight. They jumped on my trail immediately. I didn’t know they were this strong.”

At the archer’s words, Tony slowly realized what he was talking about. He _had_ to be talking about the hunters. They fought to protect the humans from any supernatural creatures, claiming they didn’t belong in this plane. Most creatures had returned to the fae worlds long ago, but some races had remained. This was their home, too, and they didn’t see why they couldn’t share it with the humans. Of course, that was only the good side of things. There were clans and cultures that didn’t give a care in the world about humans, killing them without guilt. Those were the creatures the hunters should take out, not the ones that stayed out of human affairs. And humans- normal humans- didn’t know any of this was going on, blaming it on natural disasters or human accidents.

Tony didn’t care about these debates; all he knew was that demons and hunters were after him, and he would do whatever he could to survive. And if hunters were here, whether they were searching for Tony or not, he would put up a fight.

Tony didn’t know how long it took, but the door was suddenly being slammed open again, and three figures stepped into the bar. The runes lit, with Strange protecting the bar, but the smaller figure, a woman, lifted her hand and shot a blast of powerful magic just before they did so. It hit the sorcerer, knocking him into the shelves behind him, shattering glass. The runes dispersed, and the two males stepped in, guns raised.

Tony couldn’t take his eyes off the woman, who was now glaring, eyes searching over the others in the bar. Her magic was dark, nothing like an amateur. She was pulling a lot of power, and when her gaze turned to him and shot her hand up, Tony felt the energy surge through him as he was thrown back.

A growl pierced the air as Tony struggled to sit up, watching as an arrow shot through the air to knock a pistol from one of the hunter’s hands, and a wolf leap for the woman. Gun shots rang out, and Bruce was caught midair by the dark magic and thrown to the wall beside her, slamming the beast through the wall, shattering the wood and creating a huge wall in the wood.

“She’s syphoning from a demon,” Tony shouted as he stood, just as Steve pressed forward as more shots rang out, and tackled the shooting hunter. Both fell to the floor, but the hunter was skilled in combat, and threw the shifter off him and swung a fist. Steve dodged, rolled away, and then the second human male was pulling a knife.

Tony stepped forward and pushed a blast to the woman, sending her through the same hole she had just created with a shriek. Outside, Tony saw more figures and Bruce stirring. More hunters.

Thor leaped through the hole and roared at the incoming enemies. The archer and vampire followed him out, with a knocked arrow and bared teeth. Tony pinned the hunter attempting to stab Steve to the wall, just as the shifter was getting to his feet.

Then, the free hunter was pulling out a short shotgun, and Steve barely leaped away and lifted the nearest table in time to shield himself from the spray of bullets. When the hunter was cocking the weapon, the shifter stepped forward and swung the table, hitting the hunter with a loud thwack and sending the man across the room, splitting a table as he tumbled through it to the floor.

Tony was busy admiring the shifter’s use in his weapon, almost like a shield, when he heard the mumbling from the hunter pinned to the wall. Tony felt his power sucked into himself, which effectively freed the man, and the demon fell to the floor as he sensed the power suffocating him, cutting him off from it and becoming its own weapon. The man was fucking exorcising him.

Tony felt the fire begin to pour out from him, creating soot in a circle around him, but before his fire could burn out, and release him to Hell, it abruptly stopped.

He took in an aching breath, then coughed at the pain of not being able to breathe - not that demons breathed, but it had been so constricting, like a hand gripping his throat and pulling. When he could focus again, on his surrounding and not the fear of being pulled into darkness and eventually everlasting torture, he saw the hunter near him, the one Steve had sent across the room toward him on the floor, pointing a pistol in the demons’ direction.

Tony heard the gunshot, and felt the bullet pierce his chest, but they were simply bullets, and nothing that could kill a demon. He also realized just then that he was still wearing his shredded clothing from Bruce’s attack. He really needed a change of clothes.

He lifted his hand to defend himself as another shot rang out, drawing power to heat the pistol in the hunters’ hand. The hunter dropped it after another shot, with a bullet searing across Tony’s arm, hissing in pain and clutching his burnt hand.

Then Tony hooked his fingers, shifting from fire to force, moving to the hunters’ neck. He began choking the man, the sound of struggling erupted across the bar. The man clutched his neck, his hand forgotten, as he tried to breath.

They had tried to exorcise Tony, send him to Hell where he’d be played with and tortured for eternity. It was only fair that the man was tortured as well. It wouldn’t be eternity, but the fear in his eyes was enough for Tony.

“Don’t kill him!” Tony didn’t look up, but he knew it was Steve shouting it, throwing his hunter through the hole in the wall. Tony clenched his jaw in anger, tightening his telekinetic grip. How could the shifter say that? The hunters were trying to kill them, why give them mercy?

But then Steve was speaking again, his voice seeping through Tony’s angered mind as the hunter fought for breath. “They say we’re monsters. Are you willing to give them the satisfaction to be able to say they were right? That we’re killers, and deserve to suffer for simply _breathing_?”

Tony’s grip loosened, struggling to decipher what Steve was saying.

“I did nothing to show that I was evil, or a murderer, a monster, but they immediately put that label on me. Don’t you want to change that? Prove that we’re equal, that we didn’t choose to be like this.” He could feel Steve’s glare on him, angry and sympathetic at the same time. ”Or is a demon too good for that?”

The human gave one more brush of effort before his eyes rolled into his head, and he collapsed onto the floor. He knew Steve was right, his body working before his mind could catch up. Tony released him with a shaky breath. Not dead, only unconscious.

The demon stood, turning his gaze from the unconscious human and into the proud gaze of Steve. He refused to acknowledge that look, stepping over to the human to lift him from the floor, and began to drag him outside where more fighting was occurring.

He tossed the human aside when he touched the earth. The first thing he saw was Natasha, ducking under a machete and latching onto the hunters arm, swinging herself up onto the man and using the momentum to bring him to the ground. When they tumbled, she rolled to an incoming hunter and bounced to her feet, sending a flurry of punches to the man and bringing him to the ground as well in seconds.

When Tony heard the whine pierce the air, he immediately looked to Bruce, snarling at a hunter with a shotgun. Tony saw the blood dripping from the were, but the beast still stood, and was about to leap as the hunter prepared to fire off another round.

Without thinking, Tony lifted his hand and knocked the man off his feet, the blast of the weapon missing Bruce by inches. The wolf sent a glance around, red eyes flashing as he looked to Tony, who sent the wolf a grin. Then Bruce turned back to another wave of hunters and leaped toward them, breaking their ranks as shots fired off.

Tony was about to turn, to survey who else he could help, when a large figure came at him. He felt, rather than saw, Bruce fall onto him, because of the fur and claws that brought him to the ground.

The wolf immediately crawled off of him and snarled, and Tony fought back a groan as he staggered to his feet. When Bruce snarled again, Tony realized it was at him, and he searched the deep gold eyes that flashed red. At least they weren’t red nonstop. That meant Bruce was in control, right? “You in there, Bruce?”

The wolf’s ears twitched, but he snorted, his head lowering slightly. That had to be a nod, right? But the werewolf was leaping away toward the outskirts of the wood before Tony could speak. The demon stood, his attention now on Bruce who was leaping near the trees, catching the attention of the hunters. An object flashed across Tony’s peripheral vision, and _what the fuck, Steve was throwing tables now_. The wood literally bounced off a hunter and sent him to the ground. Tony shook his head and turned his attention back to Bruce and the hunters.

They lifted their weapons and shot, but Bruce jumped out of the way, and then again, to dodge their bullets. Then Tony caught the look the wolf looking at him, then back to the hunters. The hunters that had their backs to the fight.

Tony snickered, seeing the distraction as what it was, and turned his attention to the hunters, who were struggling to lay bullets into Bruce. He lifted his hands, fire across his dark eyes, and brought dark energy from the ground. It shot out in a circle around the hunters, forming into tendrils and then hands, latching onto the hunters’ legs.

They cried out, lowering their weapons, as the tendril/hands pulled them to the ground, engulfing their legs, bringing them to their knees. One hunter attempted to shoot the darkness, and Tony grinned, hoping he shot himself in the foot. They struggled, but Tony kept his hold, then with a deep tug, he pulled them all the way, knocking one unconscious as he hit the ground. The other grunted, struggling against the force to get back up, but Tony held him.

Bruce moved to be a distraction for someone else, because if he used his strength he might kill them, and Tony guessed he was along with the no killing. Tony had to hold back, too, his power great enough to kill. It sucked being the good guys.

Bruce wasn’t quick enough this time, and bullets embedded themselves in his already bleeding stomach. Tony felt his anger flare as he saw the werewolf fall to the ground, struggle to hold himself up once more, then collapse. But he continued to glare and snarl at the hunters, snapping his jaws. A hunter reloaded his pistol and slowly approached Bruce, who was pathetically attempting to put a foot under himself. He might be able to handle himself, but not if he wanted to keep control of the wolf. Tony knew of only a few creatures that could withstand petty injuries like gunshot wounds. He himself had mostly been fine when he had his chest ripped by Bruce, but he knew of one beast that could withstand the bullets, similar to demons.

He released the hunter nearby, because he would need all his strength for this. After, he’d be useless, except for his control over the beast he was about to summon. He pulled all the magic and energy he had in him, and created a bridge in the earth, dark energy and fire swirling beneath to support the bridge. Then, he grabbed the leash that he knew was there, somewhere deep down, and pulled.

The ground in front of the demon erupted in dark tendrils and smoldering ash, glowing and crackling, as a dark figure emerged from the earth. Its head came first, fangs bared, teeth snapping, burning red eyes piercing the night. Then its paws gripped the earth and pulled itself up, settling onto the earth with all four limbs, tail lowered, hackles raised. It was a hound, bigger than a wolf, but not as big as Bruce. With the beast completely in this plane, and Tony’s power sapped, he felt himself weaken, standing on shaky limbs.

In his urgency to protect Bruce, he didn’t waste time directing the hound over to the fallen werewolf, jumping in front of Bruce just as the bullets rang out. The hunter jumped back, surprised by the new set of teeth and glowing eyes. The hound snarled, standing over the werewolf, and the hunter reacted, firing more bullets, this time into the hound. The beast from Hell was unaffected by the bullets being lodged into its body, and this must have put the hunter over the top, because he turned away, and the hound leaped after him.

Tony hadn’t been aware of the fights around him, but most hunters were down, or retreating. Which was good, because Tony didn’t have anything else left in him.

He stumbled to the two canines, and reached out to the pitch-black one with burning eyes. “Jarvis” he exclaimed happily, a childish grin on his face. The hound shifted, ears twitching and eyes narrowing. That was as much of a hello Tony was going to get. “I’m glad you’re here, buddy. Familiar face and all that.” He wrapped his arms around the hounds’ neck, causing a short growl from him, a quit-touching-me-I’m-your-servant-not-your-friend growl, not a back-off-or-I’ll-tear-your-face-off growl.

The wolf shifted out from under him and settled to his side, eyes casting down to glance at Bruce. Tony dropped to the ground, setting his hand in the fur in his neck, peering to catch a glimpse of his face. Bruce’s eyes blinked open, and he lifted his head, revealing his sparkling tired eyes. The werewolf attempted to stand, nails digging into the earth, but Tony shook his head. “You’re bleeding,” he said, deliberately looking to Bruce’s stomach.

Bruce froze, and his nose butted Tony’s chest, right where a bullet had ripped through his chest. Tony shook his head, an exasperated breath leaving his lips. “I don’t feel that, I’m fine.”

Bruce’s gaze narrowed, and he began to move again, this time successfully getting a hold of the dirt and pushed. When he was standing on all four limbs, weak but still standing, he gave Tony a look that said “So am I, so shut up.”

Tony laughed, rising with him. “We make a great team, me and you.” He waggled his eyebrows down at the wolf.

Bruce looked away, breaking eye contact, and Tony didn’t know what to make of it. Embarrassment? Or annoyance? Tony didn’t know the guy that well, but he had a feeling he didn’t need to.

The hunters retreated fairly quickly, dragging their injured away from the bar, and Tony sent Jarvis to patrol the land and warn him of any incoming attacks in the future. The archer picked up stray arrows, some covered in blood, others in dirt. Thor helped Steve stand, declaring how many hunters he put down. Tony made sure Bruce made it back to the bar without collapsing. And the vampire was dusting off her hands as she limped back into the bar.

* * *

After healing was spread around- they had to wake Strange, who seemed overly surprised that he had been knocked out with one throw- the six sat around a table, dirty and bloody, but safe. Drinks were on the house.

“So, why exactly did the hunters come?” Steve asked after they all downed the scotch, and poured some more. He looked to the archer, Clint, who shrugged, his mouth shut.

“They came for me,” Bruce said, head bowed to he stared down at the table, and not at any of them. Tony was about to object, but he continued. “A hunter, his name is Ross, he’s been chasing me for years now. After I… hurt people, he set out for revenge.”

They all stared at him, and Tony felt like butting in, but Natasha spoke first, pointing to the werewolf but glancing around at the rest of them. “He’s not completely right.”

Bruce looked the most startled, and the vampire explained. “He does have a lot of hunters on him, but so does he,” she pointed to Tony. “And myself.” She paused. “And Clint.”

All five stared at her, waiting for her to explain. She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Clint’s an elf,” she said, and Clint immediately corrected her with a mumble as he, too, settled into his chair. “Half.”

She blinked at him, eyebrows raised. He backed down, letting her continue. “He came from the fae plane not two days ago. Now, hunters have been jumpy lately, so they immediately jumped on his trail, thinking some evil creature had come through the portal and was going to slay hundreds of humans. Or so I assume. Anyway, he’s never been truly accepted by his elf brethren, and they tried to kill him. I offered him refuge here, through Strange and Fury. So him leading them here was a coincidence.”

“That explains him,” Tony said. “But what about-”

She cut him off with a glare. “I recognized some of those hunters. They were mercenaries, the same ones that were after me last year. Hunters like to stay in contact, so word probably spread quickly. Maybe they tagged along with those chasing Clint, hoping to get some information. It’s not unknown that the supernatural seek shelter here, and this is starting to become the go-to place to look for someone in hiding.”

Tony nodded. “It makes sense now, why that witch was summoning magic from a demon. She knew I was here, so she’d fight fire with fire, and the demons leant her some help.”

Natasha seemed to be the only one following him. “Right. And now, word is going to spread that we’re all here, and these four walls aren’t going to protect us.”

“But I had demons chasing after me. And whoever wants you dead. Not just hunters, I’m assuming.”

“You assume correctly. The word will spread, and this time, it won’t be the amateurs that they bring.”

"It's probably not a good idea to stay here, then."

“But until then,” Clint said, raising his glass of scotch. “Let’s enjoy the safety while it lasts.”

They clinked glasses together in agreement.

* * *

Since none of them seemed to be leaving anytime soon, Strange finally allowed them to leave the land.

At first, Tony didn’t know what to do with his free time. He just set out walking, and discovered the town not a mile away. When he found a large group of humans, gathering in a huge building, he knew this was his calling. He crashed that wedding, making up stories with each new person he talked to, seeing who would believe it and claim to remember him. He flirted with all the women, taken or not, and even some of the men, pulling a little magic to make them flirt back. Then he laughed at the faces they made when they realized they had flirted with a complete stranger and didn’t know why they’d done it. It was the first time Tony felt like himself since he’d been hiding, and it felt good.

He’d returned to the bar later that night, and headed down to get some sleep, when he noticed five other permanent residents in the lounge in the basement. They had the counter stocked with foods of all sorts, and a brand new pool table. Clint was chalking a billiard cue, while Steve rolled the balls onto the table and set them up in position. Natasha and Bruce stood to the side, talking quietly.

Thor noticed Tony first, and ushered the demon to the table. “Ah, my friend,” he said, handing out a stick to Tony. “I am told Clint never misses, but I am daring to doubt it.”

“So… let’s make a bet,” Tony started, leaning on his cue stick, but all of them turned to him and at the same time, all with glares, they told him, “ _No._ ”

Tony grinned anyway, because in his mind, he’d already won. He did horrible things to get here, but so have they, and Tony was glad for it. Because he got to meet them, come to a place where he was accepted.

Here, they were all misfits, outcasts, abandoned and alone, but at least they were here. Together.

A place where they could belong.

**Author's Note:**

> So, not really Bruce/Tony, more of a bromance, but I plan on a sequel, which will be based more on their relationship rather than a plot. Maybe more with the rest of the team.
> 
> Difference between a skin-walker, shapeshifter, and shifter, in my book, not official. Skin-walkers can take on small animalistic traits, like Wolverine for example. He takes on the “skin” of a wolverine, able to have claws, smell like one. Or Jessica Drew, who’d act like a spider, like when she has those fear pheromones to strike fear into her prey. Got it? Shapeshifters are weres, like a werewolf, werebear, werecat, werejaguar, you name it. They can shift their shape into that animal and carry the traits of it, the strength, speed, senses. And shifters, (and this last part I’m making up) can shift themselves, not their form, but their being. For example, Steve can shift his strength, throwing around the full force of his body, bring himself to quicker speeds by pushing his legs. I hope that’s not too confusing. Let’s just say his magic makes him strong. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave input. I wrote this in two days, so it may need some help. XD


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